Smoking

Why do I smoke cigarettes? They’re expensive to buy. They’re extremely unhealthy to smoke. Their smell annoys the living shit out of almost everyone else but other smokers. Places to smoke are becoming fewer by the day, often leaving me forced to brave the elements outside, placing even further strains on my health.

Could it be the taste? I used to like it but not for in quite some time.

Could it be the nicotine? No, I can get that in gum.

Could it be the addiction? I think I’m just to lazy to quit.

Could it be the ritual. Possibly.

Could it be the self-indulgence of using something that is inherently life shortening? Maybe.

Could it be a control issue? Definitely.

I think it is to play god for seven minutes at a time. Think about it, you spark life into that little cylinder when you want, whether by match or lighter, expressing the age old dream of fire at your fingertips. Prometheus would be ever so proud.

You control how long it lives by how much of its life you suck into your lungs, however, it, in return, shortens your life by precisely that same amount, a quid pro quo if ever I’ve seen one.

When you’re done with that little cancer stick, you can leave it to die a slow death, forgotten in the ashtray, you can cripple it into an agonizing death, a half extinguished lingering demise, crush it beneath your feet, drop it into a toilet so the funeral can be at sea, or simply flick it into space, banishing it forever.